Struck to the Bone
by SpinalBaby
Summary: He remembered the first time it had happened. It was a foggy memory.


He remembered the first time it had happened. It was a foggy memory. Christmas Eve. Twelve years old. He'd had a cold and the whole family was over for gift exchanges and dinner. It was his uncle that had taken him to bed. He'd been out of it, and despite his protests his mother told him he'd had to go to bed early. It was his uncle- his favorite relative- who had volunteered. He'd used the busy atmosphere as an opportunity. He'd picked him up in his arms and carried him to bed, placing him down on the mattress and shutting the door behind him.

He recalled how it started, when his uncle had began to undress him, under the pretense he was helping him into his pajamas. He was in a daze when his uncle had started touching his chest and he'd hardly noticed till he'd dwelled on his nipples. He'd been surprised, asking his uncle what he was doing but his uncle had hushed him, continuing to touch him and to go further. He'd been too weak to really fight it, but too embarrassed to call out for someone. So, he suffered in silence. And now that man was coming to live with him.

…

Grantaire sighed, quickening his pace as he ventured across the whole school, just for a set of paint brushes he'd left in the locker room. Although he was one of the best students in his art class, his teacher was still very much aware Grantaire was a trouble maker, reluctantly allowing his to go fetch the brushes he forgot so long as he hurried. Grantaire normally wasn't very determined to prove himself, but since this was his favorite class, and favorite teacher, he didn't want to let him down. He had a funny habit of looking up to people like that, but normally he wasn't determined enough to go out of his way for them unless need be. There were few he'd do that for.

When Grantaire entered the abandoned locker room his mind snapped into concentration mode briefly as he searched for his locker. They all looked remarkably similar, even though he remembered approximately where it was, he had to look at the numbers to confirm. His concentration was broken when he heard a soft sob coming from the showers. If he hadn't reminded himself that this was the boy's locker room, he would have mistaken it for a small, somewhat meek girl. Maybe someone like Cosette. She didn't cry much though, she was tougher than most gave her credit for.

Grantaire realized after a few more broken hearted sobs that whoever was crying had yet to notice that he was there, so he quietly walked into the showers. He was careful as he stepped, trying not to make a sound. He saw that in the back of the room the curtain was drawn dividing a small part of the showers from the rest. Beneath the curtain his eyes rested on a remarkably familiar pair of red converse. Enjolras.

Grantaire's head reeled- it really surprised him- to hear Enjolras crying. They were friends, this much was true, but they were not close like he was close to others in their social circle. He did know however, that Enjolras was not open enough to a single one of them to cry in front of them unless it was absolutely necessary. Grantaire didn't want to alert him to his presence, but he felt the need to make sure his friend was alright, creeping around the curtain. What he saw surprised him.

Enjolras sat in the corner of the shower, his face buried in his knees, his arms wrapped around them to hold them up as they shook slightly, with his sobs. His blond waves were a mess, covering his face so Grantaire could scarcely see it. He wore a red flannel over a grey t-shirt, clinging to the edge of his sleeves in some manner to comfort himself, with his normal ripped jeans and signature red converse. This was not the Enjolras that Grantaire was used to seeing. Among his friends Enjolras was the strong, bright leader of their group. One who often would fight, argue and shout his way against anything he felt was wrong or unjust. He'd nearly gotten himself suspended last week when a teacher had moved up a due date on an already very stressed out class. And yet here he was, crying. Grantaire held his breath, unsure of what to do. He watched him for several minutes, before Enjolras looked up to wipe his tears with his sleeve. Upon seeing Grantaire he froze.

"Shit- R- what the hell are you doing here?" he quickly regained the composure of his voice, wiping his face furiously to make sure there were no signs of tears. "How long have you been here for?"

Grantaire opened his mouth. He was going to answer honestly, but quickly his brain scolded him and he realized Enjolras would be nothing short of mortified if he told him the truth. "Oh, I just got here. I left my brushes in my locker." The brunette studied Enjolras carefully as he saw him slump down in defeat. Clearly he'd been here since everyone left gym, and that had been second period. School only had two hours left. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Enjolras at lunch either.

"Oh. Did you get them?" Enjolras sighed a little as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked like he'd been crying almost all day.

"No, not yet." Grantaire said cautiously as he walked over, sitting down next to Enjolras on the ground, "Are you okay?" Clearly he wasn't but- that's what you were supposed to ask in this situation, wasn't it?

"Yeah, m'fine." he mumbled as he wiped his eyes one final time, his sleeves pulled mostly over his hands. Grantaire didn't like to admit it- but Enjolras looked adorable. His eyes were still glassy and wide, and he was cuddled up in his flannel. Despite it being cute though, it was totally out of character. Usually he was handsome and commanding.

"Flunk a test or something?" Grantaire asked, trying to give him a reassuring smile. Enjolras flinched as he put a hand on his shoulder. Grantaire frowned.

"Yeah, something like that," he nodded, returning a slight sheepish smile. It worked to reassure Grantaire, his own smile quickly returning. "Don't you need to head back to class or something?"

"And miss the chance to comfort Apollo in one of his few times in need? Never." Grantaire seemed a little worried still. "Personally, when I'm sad, I like to lean on somebody. How about you?"

"I guess most people like that…" Enjolras looked at Grantaire, seeming a little confused.

"Then feel free to use me as a pillow. I won't even move." When Enjolras seemed hesitant, Grantaire sighed a little, "I won't tell anyone you were crying, Enj, if that's what you're worried about."

"You won't?" Enjolras asked, looking away a little. He couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough to cry at school.

"I swear to you, Apollo. I won't tell a soul." he said dramatically, smirking a little. He patted his shoulder a little, and smiled at Enjolras as he rested his head upon it. "See, I'm comfy."

"Yes. You are." Enjolras closed his eyes. He blushed a little. But he was actually somewhat relieved Grantaire, of all his friends, was the one that found him. The others would pry too much, ask too many questions. Grantaire was right. All he wanted was someone to lean on.

…

After that school day Enjolras had begun to disappear more and more frequently, usually ducking out when people would notice the least. That said, however, his absence could not go unnoticed for very long, since he had many very loyal friends, some in almost every class. None of them knew what to say though, since when he was present, Enjolras was acting very much like himself. Grantaire knew more though. He knew something was wrong. Very wrong, to affect Enjolras in such a way, but he knew Enjolras didn't want to tell anyone, so he kept his mouth shut, and kept Enjolras company as he sulked in the locker room. Missing a few classes certainly wasn't anything new for him, but he did worry about Enjolras's deteriorating attendance record. His parents were pretty strict, what little he did know about them, and surely the school would call soon. He was surprised they hadn't yet… it'd been almost a whole month since this started.

Enjolras lifted his head from Grantaire's shoulder as the school bell rang, bringing an end to their day. He sighed a little, "Thank you, R." He pulled himself to his feet.

"It's not a problem… but, if you do want to ever talk about what's troubling you… I'd be happy to listen." he didn't mean to make Enjolras uncomfortable, but it was clear he did.

"I don't." Enjolras said, picking up his backpack, careful not to turn a glance to Grantaire as he left. He didn't really want to see the hurt expression his friend wore, because although he didn't mean to hurt him, he didn't want to ask questions either.

Enjolras walked home, shivering as a little bit of wind tore through the street, taking with it many leaves and depositing them on the opposite side of the street. It'd been a month now, since his uncle moved in. He'd fallen on hard times, was what his mother said, and his father always spouted about how family had to be there for family. It was obvious his father adored his brother, so he was sure he didn't mind much. But Enjolras hated him. He couldn't stand him. He couldn't stand to be around him…

He gripped his arm uncomfortably, shuddering at the thought of his uncle. As a child he'd admired him. That all came crashing down one Christmas when the man had assaulted him. He never told anybody about that though. Not even his parents. They wouldn't believe him, they both thought his uncle was a great guy. They couldn't have been more wrong. For a whole three years after the incident, Enjolras's uncle had gone abroad, and Enjolras almost believed it was just a bad dream, nearly forgetting about it. It was the Christmas he came back that he was forced to admit it wasn't just a nightmare, and that it was very, very real. Enjolras was seventeen now, and in his senior year of high school with all his friends, the Amis. Of course it had to be his last year his uncle decided to live with them. He couldn't fuck this year up if he wanted to get into college… but… there he was, already failing a month into the year.

He'd walked home the rest of the way in a daze, hardly noticing how far he'd gotten until he looked up, and he was standing in front of his own house. He didn't want to go inside, so he stood there, until the front door opened before him. His uncle.

"Julien! I thought I saw you walking up the sidewalk. Come on in, you look chilled to the bone. Your nose is all red." His uncle was tall, with the same wavy hair Enjolras had, but cut much shorter, and was actually a light brown. He'd gotten the blond from his mother's side. He was also a fairly handsome man, his facial features sculpted much like those Greek and Roman statues Grantaire was always comparing him to. He had a friendly face, not like Enjolras's usually serious one, and nothing like the ill one he was currently wearing either.

There was nothing he could say to protest, so he wordlessly walked inside, beginning to take off his coat, when his uncle's hands gently laid them on his upper arms, assisting him. Enjolras pulled away.

"You don't look like you're feeling very good. I'll run you a hot bath, does that sound alright?" His uncle pouted.

"No, thank you. I'm fine." Enjolras shook his head, hanging up his coat and walking up the stairs. His uncle followed. Enjolras walked a little faster, getting into his room and shutting the door behind him. He sighed, sitting down on his bed and opening up his backpack, beginning to take out his homework. He knew it wasn't going to get done, but maybe if he tried to look busy… His hopes were crushed as his uncle opened the door, walking in, going for the attached bathroom.

"Julien… I don't want you to catch a cold." he chuckled as he began to run the bath water from the other room. Enjolras ignored him, keeping his nose buried in his text book. He knew pretending it wasn't happening didn't work, but he still had to try. That was all he could do. Enjolras stiffened as he felt his uncle's breath against his neck. "My lovely Julien, when did you become so stubborn…?"

Enjolras tensed, closing his eyes. His uncle plucked the book from his hands, setting it down on the bed and lightly kissing his neck. Enjolras felt useless as he let it happen- he supposed… if this had started now that he was much older maybe he would have fought his uncle. Maybe he would have defended himself, but his past trauma made him freeze- to just try and stay silent. He felt as if let it happen his mind could separate itself from his body until it was all over. It didn't work though.

Enjolras gasped, his nails now digging into his uncle's back, tears stinging in his eyes. No matter how often this happened now he always felt as if he was being torn in two. He quietly hissed in pain as his uncle thrust deeper, settling himself inside Enjolras before beginning to thrust and set up a pace. Enjolras closed his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly as his uncle whispered sweet nothings in his ear. He wanted nothing more than for this to be over already. Every day for a whole month now Enjolras had wanted nothing more than to wake up and find out it was all just a cruel nightmare, and that his uncle was still halfway across the country, yet here he was over his only nephew instead, sweaty and grinding up against the silent blond's body and he thrust his cock in and out.

…

A few more weeks had passed before they were assigned their big group project in Mr. Valjean's class. They had to create a PowerPoint of an example of a historical revolution. Almost every group had three people in it, but since there was an odd number of people somebody had to be the group of two. Grantaire had sought out Enjolras intentionally, unsure if he could handle being around more than one person at a time. He'd been so jumpy lately.

"My parents are really strict, and I'd kind of like to get away from them- Enjolras? Enjolras, are you listening?" Grantaire blinked, looking at his tired looking friend, who was staring off into space.

"What? Sorry… I was thinking." His cheeks became flush with embarrassment. "What was that again?"

"I was asking if we could go over to your house to do the project tonight, if that's okay?" Grantaire genuinely wanted to get away from his parents, but he also was mildly curious to see what Enjolras's house was like.

At first the blond wanted to say that there was no way in hell, but he took a moment to think first. "Sure." He nodded a little. If Grantaire was there his uncle wouldn't try a thing. He knew it.

Over the past couple of weeks Enjolras and Grantaire had grown quite close, and argued much less than they had before. It was one of the few things his social group was relieved about, though they all still were quite worried about Enjolras. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had tried to approach him multiple times about his absences, but he blew them off. Sometimes he ignored them, other times he snapped at them. He hated distancing them using anger… but sometimes it was the only way to make them back off. Grantaire was the only one who didn't question him, only supported him. If it were under any circumstances Enjolras would be forced to admit he really had a crush on R. But that remained buried in the back of his mind under piles of tension and trauma.

When they arrived at his house later that night his uncle informed them that both his parents were gone for the night, out at a party of some sort. Enjolras ignored him, which Grantaire found slightly odd, sheepishly waving at the man. If all of his relatives were this attractive it was no wonder where Apollo got it from himself. He quickly trailed behind Enjolras, trying to keep up as he led him to his room.

"Don't get along with your uncle much?" Grantaire asked as he set down his book bag on Enjolras's bed.

"Something like that." he replied, sitting down beside Grantaire's bag. "So, the project."

"Oh yeah. I found an event I thought you might like, it's called the June Rebellion."

"Oh, what's it about?" Enjolras asked, leaning forward, looking into the book Grantaire was opening up.

They spent most the night studying and laughing together, and for the first time since the school year had begun he felt very normal. He almost fell over with laughter when Grantaire had made a particularly amusing joke about the leader of the revolution. Grantaire caught him by his shoulders, their faces inches apart from each other when Enjolras looked up.

"Ah-" he blinked, cheeks flush. Grantaire leaned in cautiously, as if unsure if Enjolras would consent to the kiss. In response Enjolras leaned closer, their lips touching. At first it was very chaste, but it deepened, and Enjolras pulled Grantaire toward him, falling back gently against his bed. It was so full of love, but when Grantaire's hands wandered a little too low, Enjolras felt a pang of panic beginning to rise in his chest. Then the door opened.

"Julien it's getting late-" his uncle stood in the doorway, a frown quickly forming on his face.

Grantaire looked up, quickly pulling himself off of Enjolras, "Shit-" Enjolras looked mortified.

"You should go." Enjolras's uncle looked annoyed, and Grantaire quickly grabbed his things together and turned to Enjolras one last time before leaving the room.

"Sorry. See you at school tomorrow." he gave Enjolras an embarrassed grin, but when he saw the lost expression on the blond's face, he began to worry. He wasn't sure what to do so he panicked, pushing past the older man in the doorway and leaving. He didn't know why Enjolras had looked so- scared. He should have been embarrassed too- right? Not… scared…

"So." Enjolras's uncle began once Grantaire was long gone. "You were fucking with someone else this whole time." He crossed his arms, walking forward to his nephew. "I'm hurt."

Enjolras looked up at his uncle, wide-eyed. He was still sitting, leaning all his weight on his arms, his hair a little disheveled.

"Don't you have anything to say?" His uncle asked, his tone dangerous.

"I-I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say, but he immediately knew it wasn't enough to sate the man's anger. He flinched as he uncle pushed him back down on the bed, bringing up his arms to guard himself. His uncle aggressively pulled them away, pinning both of the blond's wrists above his head.

"You're more of a slut than I thought. I thought you were mine, Julien." he spoke in a low tone, deeply hurt, but equally angry.

"I didn't sleep with him- I swear I didn't," he shook his head, unable to keep quiet this time. A new fear was ignited in him as his uncle ripped off his clothes.

"Why should I trust you?" he scoffed, "But don't worry, I'll make you forget all about him." He grunted as he spread Enjolras's legs apart, with his free hand, struggling to keep the younger man from kicking him.

When his uncle managed to thrust into him, he stopped fighting, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. Usually he could contain them, but today he couldn't. Not that his uncle was in the slightest bit deterred, much rougher than usual. He had let go of his nephew's wrists, hands wandering up his body till they rested on his neck, slowly tightening. Enjolras had been about to scream, but he was cut off as his uncle strangled him, not slowing down. Enjolras choked, trying to pry his uncle's hands away from his neck- trying to save himself- trying to fight back, but soon he blacked out, in pain and out of breath.

He didn't wake up until the next morning to discover himself neatly tucked into his bed, changed into his pajamas of a loose fitting t-shirt and boxers. He sat up, immediately engulfed in a wave of pain, the sharpness of it blinding. He fell back against his pillows, whining softly. Shit. Shit, he couldn't take this anymore. He pulled the sheets back, feeling something warm and wet in the seat of his boxers and dripping down his thighs. He sat up again to inspect it, touching his hand beneath his boxers and bringing it to his face. It was blood.

Enjolras felt sick to his stomach, practically jumping out of bed, ignoring the pain just so he could clean up. The bathtub was already full, but it was cold. Enjolras didn't care though, getting into the water, and fully submerging himself for a few moments. When he resurfaced he looked over to the mirror across from the bathtub. How bad did he look- he froze when he saw the deep black blue and purple hand prints that stretched around his neck. There was no way he could hide them. His uncle had always been so careful not to leave any marks but- how was he supposed to cover them up- he didn't even own a scarf.

In that moment he realized he couldn't handle it for another day. If anyone found out- which they would, given his current state- he'd never be able to look at anyone ever again. He couldn't… he couldn't do it here. To kill himself. It'd never work- his uncle would find him before he'd had the chance to bleed out completely. And then it would all come to light what happened. That's why he found himself putting a pocket knife into his backpack that morning before school. Why he went to school in the first place. He didn't go to his first period, hiding in the bathroom stalls, not resurfacing until after gym to his usual retreat in the locker room. At least here it wouldn't be his uncle to find him. He didn't even think about when Grantaire came in, focused only on getting this done as quickly and painlessly as possible.

He pulled out the knife, fumbling with it as he opened it up. The blade was shiny and smooth, but also cold as he drew it down his wrist in a vertical slice. It didn't hurt much at all compared to what he thought it would. Once one wrist was done he moved on to his other, his hands starting to shake. The cut was much sloppier, but it didn't matter. He was starting to get dizzy… and sleepy…

"I know he's going to kill me for this, he told me not to tell anyone, but I'm really worried about him. Really worried." Grantaire walked with Combeferre and Courfeyrac to the locker room, "He comes in here when he wants to be alone."

"It's alright Grantaire, we won't let him blame you. We're all very worried about him, and I'm glad you actually stepped forward. Courf and I weren't really sure where he was going…" Combeferre followed Grantaire into the locker room, surprised as he bumped into Grantaire who froze in his tracks as they entered the showers. The curtain wasn't even drawn around the last area, like usual, so it was plain to see the blond lying on the cold tiles in a pool of blood. He looked like he was sleeping, the way he'd curled up on the ground. Courfeyrac was the first to push past the other men, rushing to his side.

"Enjolras! C-Combeferre, do something!" he shouted as he grabbed his friend's wrist taking off his hoodie and wrapping the sleeve around it as tight as he could to stop the bleeding. Combeferre snapped out of his shock and immediately went to assist his friend, ready to put the medical knowledge his parents had endowed him with to use.

"Apply more pressure to the wound, Courf, make sure you hold it really tight," he said, rushing to do the same to Enjolras's other wrist. "Grantaire! Call for an ambulance!" Ferre commanded. It broke Grantaire from his own daze and he quickly dug in his pockets for his cell phone, dialing 911 and explaining the situation. When he was good to hang up, Combeferre ordered him to go to the office, so someone could notify the staff of what happened. Grantaire hardly remembered anything he had done in those moments, what he had said, what he'd been thinking, and when he finally came to again the ambulance was driving away from the school and there were students gathered around everywhere on the sidewalk. He looked over to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who hugged each other tightly, looking as if they both had just been gutted. Courf had his face buried in Combeferre's chest, sobbing loudly while his taller friend pet his hair, shaking. He too, was crying. It wasn't for another day they were even able to find out that he was going to be alright, so the three had to tell the Amis what had happened, and they couldn't even tell them if he was alive or not. They didn't know.

Grantaire's cell phone buzzed the following evening. Combeferre had sent him a text.

'Hey, I just got his room number, his mom called. She said they're allowing visitors now so you can go if you want. Courf and I will be there in about an hour. Both of our parents decided they needed to host a bi-family meeting.'

Grantaire could sense Combeferre's unease through the text. Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courf's families had always been close, so he had no doubt the families wanted to talk to the boys about their best friend, but he also knew how much Combeferre didn't want to talk about it. Courf was in hysterics and Ferre only blamed himself for not noticing how serious the situation was sooner. It broke Grantaire's heart, as he felt he was the one that was really at fault.

Grantaire replied to the text and received the room number in response. He hopped on the bus heading toward the hospital, paying his fare and sitting down in the back. He couldn't believe the events that had transpired since the school year had started. He still wasn't any closer to finding out what was wrong with Enjolras either… he felt like he'd missed something.

When he arrived Grantaire walked up to the reception desk, asking them in what direction room 107 was in. He began to walk off in that direction, but as he got closer to the room he walked faster. Suddenly he stopped when he saw the door with the gold numbers nailed to it. He swallowed. It was already partially open. He was surprised to see that no one was in there, other than a fragile blond who had an oxygen mask on and both his wrists tightly bandaged up. What scared Grantaire the most was that they were both also strapped down… had he struggled, when he found out he was going to live…? He must have. He was like that.

Grantaire looked sadly down at Enjolras before pulling up one of the chairs next to him and sitting down. He took one of the boy's hands and clasped his own warmer ones tightly around it. It was so cold… Grantaire jumped a little as Enjolras began to stir. When he opened his eyes, Grantaire let out a sigh of relief. He'd been worried that he'd never get to see the brilliant blue that they were ever again.

"Enjolras…" Grantaire squeezed his hand softly.

"I'm sorry." His voice was soft and weak. He pulled the mask down and off of his face, breathing haggard.

"Shhh, here, you're probably pretty thirsty." Grantaire lifted a cup of water from the nightstand, propping Enjolras's pillows a little. He pressed the glass to the blond's lips, carefully tipping it. Enjolras only drank a little until Grantaire pulled it away, noticing he was struggling. He carefully replaced the mask.

"Grantaire," Enjolras began. His voice sounded so hurt- so scared. Grantaire didn't want to hear it, so he interrupted.

"Hush Apollo. We'll talk about all this when you're all better, 'kay? Till then, just rest. I'll be right here." Grantaire pressed his hand against Enjolras's cool cheek. "Just sleep."

Enjolras calmed as he felt the warmth of Grantaire's hand. He slowly close his eyes, nodding and letting himself relax again. It only took a few moments before he fell back asleep.

It was a long while before anybody else came into the room, but when the silence was broken, Grantaire turned to see Enjolras's uncle walking in the room. The man looked grim.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was less than friendly, to say the least.

"Visiting Enjolras. My friends and I are the ones who found him." Grantaire looked up, glaring a little. What was this guy's problem?

"I see. Well, he's going to be fine, so please leave."

"What?" Grantaire scoffed.

"It's the family's decision who can be in here and I'm his family. I'd like you to leave."

"You- well-" Grantaire panicked at the thought of being torn from Enjolras's side now. "I'm his boyfriend! I have just as much right-" Grantaire argued, but he was cut off by a threatening shout.

"Get out!" Enjolras's uncle shook a little. "Don't make me call security."

Grantaire blinked, standing up. He didn't want to leave, but he knew he had no choice. On his way out he stopped to turn back to see Enjolras one last time. His eyes wandered to the whiteboard chart at the end of Enjolras's bed. One phrase, written in red dry erase marker, stood out. _Ran rape kit._

Grantaire was in the doorway when he realized it, "Wait- I don't want to go yet!" Grantaire struggled to get back in, realizing the severity of Enjolras's situation. He was pushed out by his uncle, who slammed the door shut behind Grantaire. As he fell into the hallway, he couldn't believe what he had saw. Enjolras- raped? By who? Grantaire couldn't think straight. It explained why his parents weren't there… They were probably still talking to the police.

His loud voice and struggle had prompted several hospital staff to look over, one of which seemed to know a bit about Enjolras. "I'm sorry sir." The nurse said, "His uncle asked us to leave them alone for a few hours so Julien could sleep. Maybe you can try again tomorrow?" The young woman tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"Yeah… Thanks." Grantaire nodded a little, running a hand through his hair.

…

Grantaire sat alone in his room for a good half hour before he finally worked up the courage to call Combeferre, who had just gotten back from visiting Enjolras at the hospital.

"Hello?" Combeferre sounded tired.

"Combeferre, its Grantaire. Did you look at Enj's charts while you were at the hospital?" Grantaire knew his voice sounded desperate, but he was sick with worry.

"No. Why?"

"I- they… they ran a rape kit. They don't just do that when you try and off yourself, do they?"

Combeferre was silent on the other line for several moments, "No. No they don't. They'd only do that if they found evidence suggesting… well you know… during the exam."

Grantaire's heart sank, "Ferre… It explains why but…"

"But it's been going on almost two months now." Combeferre completed Grantaire's thought, sounding shaken.

"Who though? Who would do that to him?"

"Grantaire, can you get back to the hospital?"

"Of course, why?" As Grantaire said it, he felt very stupid, following Combeferre's train of thought.

"Enjolras's uncle… he moved in two months ago. He's the one staying at the hospital overnight."

Grantaire had known something about him was off, but until now he couldn't place it. "I'm on my way."

…

Grantaire got on the bus, running the whole way there once he got off. Visiting hours were already over for the night but Grantaire didn't care, bolting past reception and security. He ran even faster when he heard them shouting at him from close behind. Two lefts… One right… There it was- Enjolras's door. He burst into the room, freezing momentarily as his eyes took in the scene before him.

Enjolras lie in his bed, his whole body tensed up, eyes shut tight. Tears streamed down his reddened cheeks as his uncle held his legs apart, raping his nephew. He was kissing the bruises on Enjolras's neck. The ones he left.

"Enjolras!" Grantaire rushed for the red button at Enjolras's bedside. He needed to call the doctors. He was cut off when Enjolras's uncle spun around and jumped off the bed, quickly zipping his pants back up before lunging at Grantaire. He had to stop him.

Grantaire heard Enjolras try to choke out something, but he couldn't make it out as he and the older man fell to the ground, two of the chairs clattering over them. Grantaire didn't care, trying to escape Enjolras's uncle for only a moment so he could press the call button. Finally it was within his reach and Grantaire grabbed it, holding it down. He held it for a good several seconds before a fist to the side of his head made him fall back and let go.

…

When Grantaire woke up he sat up right away, quickly grabbing his head and groaning. Shit. That hurt. He looked around the room he was in, realizing he was still at the hospital, lying in a bed. Combeferre looked up from a book he'd been reading at Grantaire's bedside.

"You're awake. Thank god."

"What? Was it serious?" Grantaire asked, rubbing the side of his face. He could feel the bruise.

"No, but Courf and I decided to take turns on who gets to watch who and he never came back to relieve me of my shift." Combeferre stood up, offering a hand to Grantaire.

Grantaire snickered, taking it as he stood up, "Sounds like Courf alright." He got up, recalling the events that led up to his injury, a frown returning to his face, "Is-"

"Enjolras is going to be okay. They arrested his uncle a few hours ago now and Enj is recovering from a minor surgery."

"A minor- it was that bad?" Grantaire looked down. Combeferre nodded.

"Yeah. But he'd going to get better now. And I'm sure he's more than tired of Courf's company by now, so let's go." Combeferre gave Grantaire a reassuring smile.

"Alright." he nodded. Grantaire was incredibly nervous as they approached the door, fidgeting with the edge of one of his sleeves. What if Enjolras didn't want to see him? He was probably mad… after all he'd gone through such lengths just to keep it a secret.

When he entered the room he actually found himself relieved to find Enjolras looking exceptionally annoyed, his arms folded across his chest as Courfeyrac lectured him.

"You don't do that Enj! You can't just think you're gonna get away from us that easily. We. Are. Your. Friends." He made wild gestures to reiterate his point, looking upset with his friend, "We thought you were dead!"

Combeferre set his hand down on Courfeyrac's shoulder, almost as a polite warning, as well as a sign to tell him to calm down. "Courf, we were supposed to switch rooms an hour ago." he gave the raven haired boy a dangerous smirk.

"Oh, yeah." Courfeyrac laughed a little, as Combeferre dragged him away. Combeferre seemed to have an unlimited amount of wisdom, always knowing when to get the hell out of dodge, especially when he sensed someone needed to talk. Soon only Grantaire and Enjolras were in the room.

"So. Where are your parents?" Grantaire knew small talk wasn't going to work, but Enjolras did grace it with a response.

"They're talking to the police. They're not happy people. Pretty sure they're avoiding me." He shrugged a little.

Grantaire hadn't noticed it before, but maybe Enjolras's home life wasn't too sweet even without his uncle. Not that his own was.

"So." Enjolras began this time. For the first time in months Grantaire saw Enjolras's eyes reignite with the same passion he usually argued for the rights of all humanity with just before he began to speak again. "You are a fucking dumbass Grantaire. I cannot believe you actually got involved in any of this- I didn't want anyone to find out about it either. So much for that. And now look, you've got a stupid fucking bruise on your face because you couldn't keep your mouth shut. All because you actually thought it was a good idea to tell my uncle we were dating? Are you serious? Because that was the absolute dumbest thing you could have possibly said he won't stop ranting to the police about how it was a fit of jealous anger- honestly I can't believe you sometimes. Do you think about anything before you say it? Grantaire?"

Enjolras called out as if he was expecting a response from Grantaire at some point, not that he had really stopped to take a breath to allow Grantaire to speak. But Grantaire only stood there, his cheeks flush. So Enjolras had heard that he'd called him his boyfriend.

"Grantaire?"

"Oh, yeah, uhm, I'm sorry. Really Apollo, I feel like half this shit was my fault…" He scratched the back of his neck. He was going to get it…

"Didn't you hear what I just asked…? I don't want to say it again… are you trying to embarrass me?" Enjolras sighed deeply, glaring at Grantaire.

"What? Oh, no. Sorry, I zoned out. Promise." Grantaire blinked, looking at Enjolras.

"Did you really mean it…? Did you actually want to… date?" Enjolras sighed again, looking like it was taking all of his effort to play it cool.

"Yes- wait- I mean- yes." Grantaire wasn't sure if it was a trick question, but oh well, he'd let himself be tricked for Enjolras.

"Then. We're dating." Enjolras said, as if it were the definite answer to some sort of formula. A nurse had come in to do a check up and make sure everything was still alright, but upon hearing that she turned heel, leaving the room quickly. Teenagers.

"We're what?"

"Dating."

"Right now?"

"Well, yes." Enjolras had lost whatever composure he had had, and was now visibly flustered. Especially when Grantaire walked up to him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, looking down at the blond, whose whole face was now beet red.

"... Yeah." Enjolras blushed as Grantaire leaned down, giving him a very soft, but very heartfelt kiss.

When Grantaire pulled back he grinned, seeing the soft smile on the blond's face. A smile that he hadn't seen in far too long. "There it is."

"There what is?" Enjolras asked.

"That smile. I thought it was gone." Grantaire gave Enjolras another peck on the cheek.

"Oh my god Grantaire, you're such a dork." he huffed, pushing him away.

Meanwhile in the hallway Combeferre and Courfeyrac sat together in the stiff plastic chairs the hospital had placed there… for your comfort. Lies.

"He didn't tell us." Courfeyrac finally broke the silence, his knees brought up to his chest as he rested his chin on them. "He could have told us."

"I know." Combeferre said, nodding.

"He confided in Taire more than us… he pushed us away." Courfeyrac sniffled. "I was so scared we were going to lose him- I thought we already had with the way he'd been acting, but I didn't know-" He stopped when he looked over to Combeferre. He rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses, trying to hide the tears.

"I know Courf. I know. But fear makes people do stupid things. We can't blame him for any of this. Everything is that awful man's fault. We should have noticed sooner… I can't believe I didn't notice…"

Courfeyrac's expression softened as he looked at his friend. The one who was usually the voice of reason, "Don't even try to blame yourself Ferre. No one could have known. Everything is his uncle's fault. Not yours, not mine, not Enjolras's. 'Kay?" He took Combeferre's hand in his own, squeezing it, watching as a slight smile returned to his friend's face. "We're gonna get through this. We will."


End file.
